This Thing Called Life.....

>Yoga

ctozrn — Thu, 03 Feb 2011 19:25:00 +0000

>”Yoga is a metaphor for life.” I wish I was the original writer of these words but I am not. I thought them today though. I googled the phrase and apparently many people have thought the very same thing because there were a ton of finds for the phrase. Today was yoga day. I started yoga three weeks ago. Every week I look forward to it more and more. To many people yoga is exercise. A way to get more fit, have a tighter butt, or because it is the “in” thing to do. I thought these very things when I signed up for the class.I also wanted to become more flexible due to back problems. Yoga has become so much more than a wish for a better butt!

I am learning to breathe. Breathing is something that our bodies do for us. We don’t have to think about it. we just do it. Yoga has taught me to slow down, think about my breathing, and to move my body with my breath. I have learned to be in the moment. sometimes just for a few seconds, other times for minutes. It is hard not to revert back to writing the grocery list while in downward dog but I am doing it! It is amazing when you are synching your movements with your breath. To feel your body move together with the air that you draw in is amazing. I know that if I slowed down everyday and just breathed….truly synchronized my breath to whatever I was doing, life might just flow a little easier! For everything I did and said to have purpose and meaning. Instead of the hurried crazy life I sometimes lead. As you breathe and move together in yoga, you are purposeful. You are moving and breathing together. What would my life be like if I slowed down and took slow deep breaths with everything I did? Or if I thought a little deeper about what I am doing and more importantly, what I am saying.

I am learning how to be so still, so focused, that I can feel my heart beating in my chest. I never knew that was possible. It is so rare for me to be that quiet and still. When I get to that place and am so quiet, so focused on whatever pose we are doing, it is so exciting to me when I can feel the thump-thump of my heart. I swear sometimes that I can hear it too. I wonder what would happen if I allowed myself to be that still, that quiet, that focused everyday. What would I hear? What would I see? Maybe I would listen to a friend instead of talking incessantly. Maybe I would see a butterfly as it flies from its cocoon as I am in the drive thru at the bank.

I am learning to take baby steps. Nobody starts doing yoga and becomes a perfect yoga master in a day…or a week…or even months. Yoga takes a long time to learn. Sometimes it takes even years before you can feel proficient. But all along you are learning. You are learning the poses, the order of the different routines, how to breathe. Your muscles are learning with your brain. They are learning how to bend a little more, how to stretch with the movement of your breath. They are becoming more and more flexible every time you stretch or move. You find that each yoga session you can stretch further and easier. Life is so much like that. It is baby steps. You go further and further down your path, not realizing that you are learning all the way. That there are lessons all around. It is only after you go down your path and look back do you realize the growth that was happening.

I am learning awareness. I am so aware of my body now. I am feeling more loving, more tolerant. Showing kindness to my body and the changes that are happening ever so slowly. Through yoga I am becoming aware of so many muscles I wasn’t aware of. Ways to breathe that I never thought about. Moments of stillness, sereneness, QUIET nothingness that I never thought I could achieve. I am learning the gift to myself of just pure silence and how golden it is. That might sound pure cheesemiester but it is so true. It has always been so hard for me to be quiet. I have always had so much to say! Or so I thought….how much of it was really important and how much of it was just noise? I am trying to find purpose when I speak now. Truly think about what I say before I say it. Is it truly purposeful? This is hard for me. I am finding so much peace on my little magic carpet, or yoga mat as some may call it! It really does take me way to another place. I never thought I could find a way to quiet my mind. I am learning though! I am learning to achieve quietness for myself outside the yoga studio as well. Turning off the radio in the car. Turning off the TV while I am home. Learning to be ok in the silence. My body is moving in ways I never thought possible. I am learning to breathe and move together. It feels good. I feel proud for the soreness I feel the next day. the soreness that is not painful, just slight aching in muscles I have never been sore in before!

It is exciting and wonderful. I await Thursday mornings with so much energy now! I have always had trouble with doing things consistently. I have joined a ton of gyms, Weight Watchers, and other things in my quest for health and weight loss. I have not stuck to any of them. I am going into my 6th week of yoga and I am more excited about it every week. I am not losing tons of weight nor do I have a yoga butt….yet. I am achieving so much more though. I am finding peace. Kindness to myself and my body. Quiet. Awareness.

I love it. In quiet, serene baby steps yoga is changing my life. Namaste.

>A Mom, Moving Out of the Way

ctozrn — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 18:29:00 +0000

>I have been longing to write. I carry with me at all times a story in my head. A lot of times I have the desire to write about these things but I just don’t. Sometimes I think they are things that shouldn’t be talked about, let alone written about or just aren’t profound enough….I have a blog, therefore every entry must be the great American novel right? Writing is so healing for me, the truth is I just don’t do it. Plain and simple. I don’t take the time to get all these things floating around in my head OUT! There are tons of things in my life to write that great American novel….really, I totally could! The thing is, I need to speak the truth. I need to stop hiding and pretending. Trying to gloss things over like my life and my head and heart don’t hurt. I am getting older and the thing is, I just don’t care anymore about what someone “might” think of me. There are things in my life right now that hurt so bad that I sometimes think my heart may break into a thousand pieces. And thanks be to God I have so many other things that hold that heart of mine from exploding from the pain. I have a goal set for myself this year that I will write. not something beautiful, poetic, or profound. Just write! It centers me. It gives me clarity. It wipes away the muddiness of life and makes so many things clear again. I have to find a way for me to speak my truth. To truly be set free by it. To live my life as transparently as possible.

My first child, a blond haired, blue eyed boy is dying. He wasn’t diagnosed with a terminal illness. He has decided this himself. To lose him suddenly would be horrible, painful, gut-wrenching. But I believe that what he is doing now is even worse. I get to watch him kill himself right. In. Front. Of. Me. He is on drugs pretty heavily. According to him he is selling them too. I get to watch all of this with descriptions and daily pictures via facebook. My new obsession is to go to his page and see and hear about his daily destruction. Everyone I know tells me not to. Go there. And yet I am pulled. That invisible umbilical cord forces me there. To watch him die or at least watch him ruin his life. In color. He called me two days before Christmas, like I knew he would. We hadn’t talked in about two months. But there he was, ready to do Christmas! I said no. No Christmas with me. No presents. No dinner. I just couldn’t pretend. have him show up for an hour, get his loot, and then go back to his side of the world. Not to call until the next holiday that nets presents. It hurt. I got him nothing. I didn’t see him. The little boy that I stayed up wrapping gifts for until 2am on many Christmas Eves. Many people would say I made the wrong choice but I think it was the right one for me. I felt relief. There was no discomfort that day. I celebrated with family and friends. I was happy! I still remember that boy though. He had blue footy pajamas. I bought them at Sears. I have to let him have his journey. His angels. His God. I am moving over to let that happen. I don’t have to be there while they do their job. I told him I love him and will continue to pray for him. I just can’t be around him now. I can’t continue to watch. I have a life that is wonderful right now that I have to live! That may sound selfish but it took me a long time to get here but I am HOME! I hope that he can come home one day as well. I have had to learn over the last year and a half that it was a kay for me to move on. To be happy. That just because a child of mine is lost, that I don’t have to be as well. I have a daughter who at 17 is an amazing, wonderful child. She brings me much joy. My partner loves me more than I have ever been love before. We are planning our wedding. We are putting down roots in our first home. We have wonderful jobs, good health. I am growing somewhat….struggling spiritually but am getting there. At least there is growth happening, even if it is slow and sporadic at times.

So I was selfish. I had to be. I will pray. I will love. And I will let his God take care of him. And I will keep reminding myself that it is ok to be happy. Even with a child lost, I don’t have to be. And maybe, just maybe, that is the best thing I can do for BOTH of my children.

>Choices

ctozrn — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 16:09:00 +0000

>I believe that everything in life is a choice. I decide most of the hundreds of choices that I make each day. When to get up, what to wear, what I will eat, and my activity for the day. Unfortunately I haven’t always made the best choices when it has come to my health. I have always been overweight and out of shape. As a result, my body is falling apart. My back has been deteriorating over the last two years. Following back surgery and physical therapy I have started seeing a pain specialists and am on more medications than a lot of eighty year olds. I am tired most of the time, and my latest injury is a possible bone spur to my left heel. When I went to the internet to investigate I found that being overweight is one of the main causes. So this leaves me in pain everyday. My back pain that radiates down my left leg and now my left heel that I can barely walk on. The last time I went to the doctor my labwork had started to make changes for the first time in my life. I have always had great cholesterol, blood pressure and no signs of diabetes. But my last check showed some changes that were concerning. My doctor told me I had to start eating better and exercise. A year later, I haven’t stuck to any of the hundreds of plans I have made in my head. I have every intention of starting an exercise plan and eating healthy. Next Monday. It is always next Monday. But I never stick to it. I try to follow diets, no sugar, Weight Watchers, and everything in between. The biggest question in my mind is…..WHY? Why don’t I do something about this if I am in such main and misery. Being fat is miserable. I am never comfortable in my body. I hurt. People look at you differently. I look at myself differently. And still, it is my own fault. It comes down to choices. I have made the choice not to eat healthy. Not to exercise. Not to eat in moderation. To pay monthly for a gym that I am not using. They are all choices. Ones that I have made. I have no one else to blame.

So, what to do??? I really don’t know but I know it has to be simple. I chose yesterday to eat healthy and walk 2 miles. Maybe it is that simple. I know I can’t do any more diets or difficult workout plans. I will choose to keep lots of healthy foods in our home. I will choose to eat foods that are good for my body and make me feel good. I will choose to walk and be active every day to keep my body from being in pain. And the most important thing, I will choose to forgive myself when I make a bad decision or “cheat” and I will forgive myself.

It may or may not be important to find out why I have done this to myself. I haven’t decided yet. It has been a struggle. One that many people have fought and won. I can too. It is one that is full of forgiveness, healing, and self discovery. When I was 39….a year ago, I promised myself that at age 40 I would get it together. I would find my way. I have to believe that I will. I have some ideas about how I will do it, ways that I will reward myself and those that will lovingly support me. There will be no “plan” Just making good choices. Keeping it very simple. Healing my body one choice, one day, one hour at a time.

Keep reading! Hopefully I will continue to blog about this journey of self discovery. The struggles, the growth, the healing…..stay tuned!

>Africa

ctozrn — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 15:20:00 +0000

On February 18th of this year, 2010, I started a life long dream to Africa. Kenya to be exact. I have not written about this subject since I returned home 2 weeks later. Now it has been months…and I fear I am losing her, that experience I had….was it just a dream? Did it really happen? Let’s just say that I will never be the same again….Africa is in my blood. I yearn to go back there. To see the people, smell the markets, see the smiles, laughter, and joy in the children. To hear that eerily, spooky chanting at 5:30 am….the Muslim call to prayer….summoning the faithful of the city by loudspeaker to come pray….I knew I was faraway from home when I heard that every morning. We laughed at breakfast over, “can you imagine if they did that back home?!”

The people of Kenya are strong, resilient, happy people. They will always have a meal for you….and you can’t say no. I found out the hard way….ended up eating roasted goat! I adamantly refused the goat bone soup….I figured it would be more rude if I puked in their laps! While I was there I had to keep reminding myself that I was on the continent of Africa….I kept picturing that huge land mass on the globe that we spun around playfully in elementary school as kids….never once even imagining that someday I would actually go there. While I was there it DID seem so far away. I had virtually no contact with my family back home. I was only able to make one phone call and email during those two weeks. Except for not having the connection with the ones I love I have to admit something. I didn’t miss it. I didn’t miss my country, technology, my job or even my freedoms. It is strange. About the only thing I really missed were clean toilets and bathrooms with soap and paper towels! I am sure that sooner or later I would have come to miss much more, but I was so content on the simplicity of the life there. To even try to write about it here seems overwhelming. As, I watch our country at war with each other regarding the right to health care my mind goes back to Africa. To a country where healthcare truly is a luxury. The average American has no idea what the world looks like when the right to healthcare is actually a privelege for the wealthy. I witnessed a two week old baby at the hospital in Maua being turned away because she had pneumonia and her parents did not have the money to have her admitted. After a couple of hours her family was able to come up with the money through various family members and she was whisked away for treatment. We had the privilege and honor to make home visits with the hospice nurse that works from the hospital and makes visits to dying patients in their homes. These homes were really what we would call shacks here in this country. No electricity, no plumbing, no refrigerators, BCBS, or pile of prescriptions. No chance of being hospitalized for the tumors growing at rapid speed through both patients we visited. The missionary nurse pulled out a huge bottle of morphine and that was it. He had no money for anything else. Yet, as we sat and talked with this man his concerns were the same as the hospice patients we care for here in the United States. How will his family survive without him? What will happen to his land after his death? Will this morphine continue to make him comfortable until his death? How will his wife care for his children?

Or what about Alice? She was at the HIV/AIDS clinic that we worked at for two days later in the week. She had walked miles to this rural clinic with her two year old brother Emmanuel. They waited in the “waiting room” for their medication and follow up appointments. The clinics are held in a different village every day of the week. Most of the time these clinics are held in abandoned church buildings or homes. They had no electricity, no privacy. Just examinations and medications. Alice and Emmanuel were orphans. Their parents were dead from the same disease that they themselves were now fighting. They were now on their own. You see, in Africa, not only is healthcare a luxury but social services or any kind of “government assistance” is as well. Nope, don’t have to worry about socialism here. These orphans live by themselves. They fend for themselves, grow crops to survive on, try to go to school….But on days like this day, Alice had missed school to take her younger brother to the clinic for his medications. People waited there all day. Sitting under the trees, sleeping on the ground while flies buzzed around their mouths and nose. The clinic workers, doctors and nurses usually saw 50-100 patients a day. Their “charts” were papers stapled together. Papers that they would take home and bring back next month. Most of the patients there were not only infected with HIV but malaria, TB, and other opportunistic infections that their immune systems just couldn’t fight off. These people came to these clinics in shame. If they were found out by others in the village, they were shunned and became outcasts…and their surviving children would be as well.

The stories that I could tell could go on. And they will….for now that I have started, I can’t stop telling their stories. The state of affairs over healthcare sickens me. You want healthcare to be a luxury for only those that can afford it? You want an end to social programs? Really? Think about it….for I have seen it.It is not so pretty.

And still, I miss it, I miss them. I will be back…to help “the least of these…” These people who were so gracious, caring, loving and joyful. They had such faith in God. The praised him feverently….and prayed without ceasing. While in Africa I thought to myself, “how can they be so happy when they have so little?” But after I came home it was then that I realized, these were the richest people in the world.

>A letter to Myself on Coming out of Funkness!!

ctozrn — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 18:51:00 +0000

>I am coming out of a funk. One that has literally kicked my butt. I struggle with depression and anxiety and PMS makes it worse. I have a very stressful job as a nurse and a teenage daughter…need I say more? I realized today as I was coming out of this latest bout of funkness(not sure if “funkness” is a word but this is MY blog so now it’s MY word! that light and sunshine are so good for the soul. I sat outside for awhile and couldn’t believe how much it brought me to life. I also realized that I have to start writing again. Writing is so therapeutic for me. It is better than a xanax….it calms my nerves and makes me feel not so crazy. When I see the “craziness” that was circling like a tornado in my head, come alive on paper or this blog, I realize just how simple and ordinary those thoughts were. Writing these thoughts down takes the scariness away and lets me live my life. In saying all that, I also realize there are things I need to do to stay healthy mentally and physically. These have all been circling in my head so for my own sanity I am going to write them here. I have no followings as of yet so I am pretty sure that this will be for my own use! If by some chance someone finds this blog, then maybe they can be helpful to someone else….and that would be great!

GETTING YOURSELF OUT OF FUNKNESS

1. Move! Do some form of exercise or movement every day!

2. Eat healthy foods before, during, and after PMS. Low in sugar and fat.

3. Do something fun with a friend.

4. Rest

5. Watch a funny movie or TV show. Laughter is truly the best medicine!

6. Tell people you are hurting. Don’t hide it.

7. Know that it will pass. Believe that you will get better, and PRAY!

8. Do something distracting like reading, writing, art, a project, something to take your mind of your funkness!

9. Take vitamins or supplements if your doctor recommends them.

10. Don’t forget to BREATHE!

Last but not least, and this is the hardest one for me….remember how much you are truly loved….by so many!

"Just Don't Kill Each Other….."

ctozrn — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 19:07:31 +0000

I was doing the dressing change on one of my patients last night. It was quite painful so I was trying to engage him in conversation and distract him from the pain. We started talking about his wife and his marriage. I asked him how long he had been married. He told me that they have been married about 15 years. I asked him one of my favorite questions to ask my patients that have been married for awhile…..”so what is your secret?” I asked. He replied to me, “Just don’t kill each other….tolerance….of each other.” He went on to say that you just don’t give up. No matter what. It amazes me that when I ask my patients this question I get such simple answers! I have had patients that have been married 65, 70 years. I love to ask them this question! The thing is, there is no secret. Most of them have just said things such as what my patient said last night.

You just stay together. You just keep loving each other….no matter what. You just don’t give up.

I want this for my own life. It is too late for me to have 65 years but I could maybe still have 50 plus years with the love of my life. I am hopeful that one day I will be able to answer “30 years… 40 years…50 years we have been together….” I have no doubt in my mind that I will have that someday.

There are so many books written about love, marriage, relationships. Many of them claim to have the answer….the secret to relationships and lasting love. I think it is much more simple than any book. I think that when I listen to my patients, many times they help me more than I help them.You just don’t give up. You stay….you work it out, you have good times, bad times but you just keep loving each other. These are always the answers I hear to this question.

You just don’t kill each other….good advice!

“Just Don’t Kill Each Other…..”

ctozrn — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 19:07:31 +0000

You just stay together. You just keep loving each other….no matter what. You just don’t give up.

You just don’t kill each other….good advice!

Suffering….

ctozrn — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 18:41:24 +0000

I am a hospice nurse. I take care of dying patients…and I am ok emotionally with that most of the time. It is hard, but when one patient dies, you know you have done the best you can to help another suffering human being. There is always another one waiting in the wings for your help. So you move on. Well, this week I have not been able to “move on.”

See, I have always said, “I don’t do kids…pediatrics….sick children.” But this week I did. We have a pediatric program that has the most wonderful pediatric nurses. They are awesome! As an on- call nurse though, I am responsible for the after hours visits while those wonderful pediatric nurses are at home asleep! I have worked at hospice for two years without caring for a dying child. Then, this week, the call came. One of our children was not doing well and had started having a seizure. I went to her home where she continued that seizure for four grueling hours. I gave her medicines through her IV, I gave her oxygen, I rubbed her legs, I gave her suppositories but it seemed like nothing I did helped. I also listened to her mother yell at me in frustration, felt the stares of many family members and friends,listened as her little brother asked me when the seizures would stop. I wasn’t sure they would. And I told them that. I told the brother, “pray.” I know that I was. I had never felt so helpless in all my life. When they weren’t looking at me, hot tears burned my eyes. I knew these people were not angry at me…but I was the closest thing that they had to lash out at. I told myself, “this is not about YOU.” I kept telling myself that and praying…it got me through.

The seizures finally stopped but she was not peaceful. Her breathing was ragged, she was dying. She stopped breathing in her mothers arms on the couch. She was eight years old. I did all the nurse things you do at the time of death but I did so numbly. I consoled parents who would never be the same again, I bathed and dressed this little girl in a pretty green gown with pink flowers, I removed the tubes, catheters, called the funeral home and doctors. I did these things that I do all the time in a daze and have stayed that way all week.

What I have done since that day is try to make sense of the suffering. I understand that children die. I get that. I am saddened by it ,but it is ok. What I don’t understand is the suffering. WHY? Is dying not bad enough? Why do children suffer? Why does anyone have to suffer? Where is God in all of this? Where is he when our hearts are breaking? Why do I have to watch my own child slowly suffer? I know it is not comparable to this little girl but to me it is a slow suffering. I have talked to so many this week about this little girl, her seizures, the way that she died. I spoke to colleagues, two pastors, friends, other nurses….I have finally come to a conclusion…..

The conclusion is this. I am not supposed to know. It doesn’t make sense. It will never make sense. Suffering will never make sense. Not for her, my own child, my own heart, or anyone else that suffers pain and heartache. What I do know is that I am supposed to TRUST in God. I am to have Faith. I am to go on LOVING others. These things came to me today. They softened my hardened heart. Jesus said, “Faith, hope, and love….but the greatest of these is love.” I am supposed to have faith and trust in him. With everything that I am. He has a plan….and it doesn’t involve me making sense of it. I am only supposed to trust in him. Have faith in him. And I do. The one thing I can always come back to is my faith and trust in God. This has been the only way that I can leave it at his feet. Knowing that I don’t have to figure it out. He already has….and his perfect plan makes sense to HIM.

I don’t have to figure this or anything else out. He said that he would carry me and he has.

Crushed

ctozrn — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 04:16:03 +0000

My heart is crushed.

I had hoped that this program would change my son for the better. It has not. Tonight he decided that he did not care for the rules of his father’s house and was leaving. For good. He is 17. If he can’t follow the rules there, then he can’t follow mine either and will not be welcome to continue that behavior here. This morning he put his hands on his sister. This has been an ongoing issue that we have had the therapistaddress. Apparently it didn’t work. He has gone to stay with some guys in the program that are 18 and over, have jobs, are doing well in the program, and have an apartment. This is what he has wanted to do for awhile now. He was just looking for a way to make it happen. I am not sure how well he will be received into a roommate situation with no job or money. As far as I know he is not using drugs…big whoop! *said VERY sarcastically* We had a counselor tell us that she thought that he needed to fall flat on his face and hit rock bottom before he really “got it.” That means penniless, homeless, without food or shelter. I think he is well on his way to fulfilling this.

All I know is I. Am. Done. I am not doing this anymore with him. No more money, transportation, did I mention money? I don’t even know at this point if he plans to finish out his senior year of high school. He has nothing planned and no grades for college. His plan is to hang out and mooch off others. I have a feeling these guys will not last as long as his father, stepmother, and I have.

I am letting go. I think that is the biggest way I can help him at this point. All I have to offer him is my prayers. Those are being said without ceasing…. I have a life to lead. One with opportunity, love, hope, adventure, and awesome friends. I also have the support of my church. I have to move on and not let this destroy me and my everyday life. I have a daughter to raise. One who is bright, beautiful, caring, funny, and full of love. I can’t have this behavior in our home destroy her. She doesn’t deserve this. That being said, I know I HAVE to do it….but it is not easy. I will have to MAKE myself do it….for my sanity.

As I write this tonight I am numb. I need to talk but don’t want to talk to “anyone” that is why I am here. For the eventual support from those that love me. To journal this so that maybe I can help someone else someday. To reach out to those that have had similar situations…… I am a hospice nurse. I see death everyday. I sit with it, talk to it, console it, support it, educate about it. But I feel that I have death going on in my home. The death of a child that I once carried under my ribcage. I felt him move, hiccup, and kick. When he was born I fed him again from my own body. To see him like this is like witnessing a slow painful death. I see this “cancer” destroying this once innocent baby, who became a boy, and is moving into manhood making very poor decisions. I also know that it could also result in a very real death, one where his life is no more. Did I mention that I am crushed?

I AM letting go. I have given my support, my time, my energy, my money. So much….but the choice is his. I have to let him make those difficult choices. I so wish that I could change them for him, but I can not. In the meantime, life goes on….I have a daughter to care for, a job, that I love, amazing friends and family. I WILL live my life. I WILL let go. I WILL also continually pray without ceasing.

I remain crushed…..

A Little Bit of Hope…..

ctozrn — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 01:44:11 +0000

I wanted to share a couple of things that have been stirring around in my mind regarding the ongoing struggle with my son. These are the things that I absolutely CLING to as I try to get by on a daily basis.

The first thing was something that happened at church one Sunday, months ago. I have been reluctant to share it here because it sounds CRAZY! I have heard people say that God “spoke” to them all my life. I always chalked it up to whatever they “thought”they heard was just something that they really wanted to hear. Either that or they were a little bit crazy…*for real*

But I heard it. I really heard God speak to me. If you want to think I’m crazy it’s ok…I have been called worse! It was one Sunday in church, our pastor was talking about prayer…and how to pray. He said we need to pray but also spend some quiet time, get this…listening to God. So he had us spend a couple of minutes in prayer and then after we were finished, had us just listen. My prayer that day was for both of my children. I cried out to God…”Please protect my children….” I instantly heard him say to me in my silence…”I already am…”

I have always been a doubter. Faith is always a struggle for me. I heard it though. Itwas a clear, calm voice. One I have never heard. It was only a few words.It was distinct…and it was not my own. I felt an instant peace. He wanted me to know that I can let go. These are really his children and he IS protecting them….everyday…every minute.

Wow.

The other thing happened also at church the other day. The message was Hope. I won’t go into the sermon here but at the end of the service there was a slideshow of all the things that we have been involved in as a church that brings hope to us. One of the pictures was of my son. It was taken this summer in Costa Rica. Our youth group helped do repairs at a church there and did a VBS for the children at this church. Apparently, my son was wonderful with the children there. This picture was of him holding a little girl. The picture made me gasp…I saw something there. Something that I hold onto. It helps to remind me that there is something alive in his heart. That there is goodness and love there. Despite the ugliness that I see most days. It gave me hope. After church, the kids from youth group told me what a gift he had with the children there. He has always been good with the little ones. They love him. He loves playing with them, loving them. As we go through these dark days with him, days where there is anger, sadness, despair, it helps me to know there is still love in his heart. He is not a monster. He is not bad. He is a child of God. That God is taking care of him for now, and that one day he will be back.